After working in retail for enough time, you get used to hearing buzzwords. Buzzwords are often words that people decide they want without sparing any thought to what they actually mean. Here is one of my favorite buzzword situations while working in the pet retail industry.

Customer: “I’m looking for the natural dog treats.”

Me: “Most of our treats are single-ingredient and are pretty natural.”

Customer: “No! The natural ones.”

Me: “Um, well, here’s a treat that’s just freeze-dried beef. Nothing else?”

Customer: “Don’t you know your own product at all?! That’s not the natural ones!”

At this point, the customer looks around and sees dog treats with chemical additives, powders, and colors.

Customer: “There they are! See?!”

I looked at the bag, and it said “Natural Flavors” among the other not-so-natural ingredients.

A lady is shopping in our store.

Customer: “I want these sunglasses but in red.”

Me: “We don’t have that in stock right now, ma’am.”

Customer: “Well go find some for me!”

Me: “Ma’am, I will be unable to locate that specific color of sunglasses within our store, but I can—”

Customer: “—Do you know how much I spend here?!”

Me: “No, ma’am, but I—”

She pulls up her banking info and shoves her phone into my face.

Customer: “Look at this! Look how much money I have!”

A manager has to step in, and she tries to show him too! Like the amount you spend anywhere is magical and makes inventory appear on a whim…

I work in a coffee place inside a big box store. I’ve just served a drink to a father and his young son, maybe five years old or so. The boy gets his chocolate and runs off with it. His father calls after him:

Father: “Don’t run, [Boy]!”

Of course, as five-year-old boys tend to do, he trips up and falls to the ground. He seems fine, but his drink has spilled everywhere. He catches us staring and starts to cry, mostly out of embarrassment. The boy’s father is kind but stern, checking his son for any injury.

Father: “This is why I said not to run, [Boy]. Now look what you did to the drink that the nice lady made for you.”

Me: *Coming by to clean up the spill* “Oh, well, accidents happen! If it’s okay with you, I can get him a replacement.”

Before the father can respond, another customer whom I just finished serving decides to join in the conversation.

Customer: “Kids are never gonna learn if y’all keep running in to kiss it all better and fix their mistakes for them.”

The customer makes one more smug look of self-congratulation, turns around, and walks smack-bang into a pillar next to the checkouts. Their coffee goes all over themselves and the pillar, drenches their sandwich, and ends up on the floor.

The customer stares at me, at the parent and child, and then back at me again as we all stare at them.

Customer: “Any chance I could…”

Staring intensifies.

Customer: *Walking away* “…yeah, yeah, I get it. Good one, universe…”

I’m lying in bed, rewatching a popular TV show about the zombie apocalypse involving a small-town sheriff in the state of Georgia. My husband is normally squeamish and not into “horror” in any form, but he has become bored in the other room and come to the bed to pester me. Side note: I am of Spanish origin and he is a Native Canadian.

Husband: “What’s this show?”

Me: “[Show]. I’m rewatching it from the beginning. It’s only a few episodes in. Want a recap on how it starts and you can watch with me?”

Husband: “Eeeeugh, no, thanks. Not interested.”

Me: “Okay.” *Pauses the show* “Want me to change it?”

Husband: “No, that’s fine. I’ll just play on my phone.”

Fifteen minutes later:

Husband: “So, there are other people out there? They want the guns, but they belong to the sheriff guy? Why would he just leave them there?”

Me: “Oh, you’ll love this next part, but let me fill you in first.”

Husband: “No, no, no. I don’t wanna know. Forget I asked.” *Rolls over* 

I look at our mirror mounted on the dresser a bit later and notice that he has strategically placed his head to see the TV, but from my angle, it looks like he’s scrolling on his phone

Husband: “Oh, my God, they were acting so tough, but they had their ab-way-lah in there? Sheriff guy was right! What if they had shot them all?! The poor ab-way-lahs! They’d be alone!”

Me: “The what?! You mean abuelas?”

Husband: “You know what I mean. I can’t make the Spanish noises. The R comes out la-la-la-la.”

Me: “You mean rrrrrrrrrr.” *Rolling my tongue*

Husband: “Shush! I’m watching the sheriff man! Who is that guy? Where are they? How did they get into a city? Where’re the rest of them? Aren’t there some kids? Wasn’t the sheriff man in the hospital?”

Me: “Fill you in?”

Husband: “Fill me in.”

I am interviewing for a relatively senior position that I am uniquely qualified for thanks to my knowledge of some more obscure programming languages. The interviewers are two men.

Interviewer: “Are you married?”

I’m thinking that we’re moving on to the more “personal” part of the interview.

Me: “Yes, I am.”

Interviewer: “Are you taking birth control? We’re not in the business of financing employee pregnancies.”

Thankfully, the other interviewer looked as horrified as I did and ended the interview right there and then.

I got a phone call later apologising and asking me to come back, but I refused, stating that it was a big red flag that someone with that attitude toward women got to that senior position in the company in the first place.